Bella's First Mentor
by joeybb
Summary: Bella arrives late at university for her first meeting with her new photography mentor Edward and is left stunned by what she walks into...
1. Chapter 1

Stephenie Meyer owns everything 'Twilight'.

**Thanks to my betas Furious Kitten & Carrie36 and maired75 & kysouza3123.**

…

Frick! I'm late! God damn Alice and her tarot cards. If she hadn't mentioned that a tall, dark stranger would be entering my life soon, I wouldn't have stayed to listen to the reading. And that was after she made me change my outfit after sweetly mumbling something about "first impressions." Good going, Bella! I hoist my skirt down, and hurry up the university steps, making sure I place my feet down carefully. The last thing I need now is for me to trip, and for my portfolio to go shooting into the air.

I make it safely into the building and try to remember where I'm meeting my mentor; I've been told how important it is to have a good relationship with them. I'm in the second year of a photography degree, and although my grades are pretty good, I worry about slipping all the time. I look down at my hand and see that I've written 303 on it. I hurry up to the third floor of the Humanities block and see that the third door down is open. _Phew, at least someone is there, _I think to myself_._ As I walk closer, I recognize Professor Cullen standing with the door open, talking to someone in the room.

"All I'm saying is that it happened between a mentor and a student last semester, and it's unacceptable. I'm warning everyone, not just you."

She says this with her hand on her hip. I can't really make out her features though, as I'm between her and the door. I had her for Introduction to Art History in my first year and found her to be very likeable.

"Esme, I'm not going to fall for some kid, okay?"

This gruff voice I do not recognize. I sting a little at this remark and then I blush instantly when Professor Cullen smiles warmly at me, albeit a little bit sheepishly.

"Hello, Bella. Bit late, are we?"

I nod apologetically but don't bother her with any boring details. She returns my nod, and opening the door wide, lets me through and walks off up the hall. I enter the room and see the man with the gruff voice with his back to me as he looks through a folder.

"Shut the door." He adds, as an afterthought, "Please."

I swallow thickly and remember Alice's muttering from this morning; great first impression I'm making. I turn back around, close the door and have a quick look around the office. It's quite small with a few choice framed photographs on the wall. I don't recognize the photographer, but they are wonderful - mostly black and white of the city; really powerful shots both of the city's landscape and a few portraits on the streets.

I hover, not knowing whether to sit down or not as his back is still turned away from me. Is he punishing me? Finally he finishes what he's doing and turns around.

"Sit down," he commands.

_Gulp!_

I sit down and take a better look at the tall, dark stranger towering above me. He must be over 6 foot, and he is wearing a charcoal suit and crisp white shirt very well. I notice his eyes; beautiful, sad eyes as if he's recently been heartbroken. Then I see his thick coppery hair._ Wow, it looks so soft! _I wonder if I reach up, he'll let me touch –

"Well?"

His voice barks at me again and I'm snatched from my brief fantasy. He is staring at me with barely concealed contempt.

"Erm? Sorry?"

He sighs and holds his hands out. "Give it to me."

I realize I am still clutching my portfolio and carefully hand it over to him. He places it down on the table and opens it up. He takes his time looking through each print, and I find myself gazing down at his hands; they're big, he looks quite strong. I wonder if he works out. Runs, maybe? Or lifts weights? His hands and arms have outlined veins as if he uses them to play guitar or to do other things with them…

"Is that right?"

He looks up and catches me staring at his hands. Oh crap, I've done it again! I blush again instantly and my brain tries to rewind its memory. What was he talking about? Did he mention something to do with contrast? Or shutter speed? I panic as I see his eyes lower to the folder and close it. He leans back in his chair and puts his hands behind his head.

"Sorry?" I whisper. I cringe at him, hoping he'll forgive my lack of focus a second time.

"I said, you were influenced by Robert Frank on these? Yes?"

Oh, the relief. "Y-Y-Y-Yes," I stutter.

"I thought so. And yet these prints are quite Adams-esque, how he would shoot the city today."

My heart softens. "Oh, thank you."

"That wasn't a compliment-" He peers down at my name on the front of the folder. "Isabella is it?"

"Yes, Bella, please."

"Well, Bella, why do you think me comparing your work to another artist's is a compliment? Plagiarism is theft."

Ouch! I'm beginning not to like this man and his smug tone. He has not even introduced himself yet, and he's already being rude.

We sit in silence as we glare back at each other. This isn't going how I planned. He sighs and looks at the photographs on the office walls. I follow his gaze and look at them too.

"They're very good. Are they Professor Cullen's?" I ask.

"No, they're Edward Cullen's."

"Is that her husband?"

"No."

His eyes narrow at me and I get the feeling I've done something wrong. Is this man impossible to please? I get up and walk over to one photograph of an old man standing by the sides of the city's main bridge on a beautiful spring morning. He is laughing beside a young girl; it's a real belly laugh as if she said something revealing and honest the way children often do.

"I love the way he's captured this moment between them, it feels so real."

The mentor scrapes the chair on the wooden floor as he gets up and comes to stand by me.

"I found them playing hopscotch together and asked if they wouldn't mind if I took some photos for my thesis."

He smiles at the memory. His face softens and as I realize he is standing close to me, I get a slight chill down my neck as my hair stands up. He smells earthy in a really masculine way, is it sandalwood? Whatever it is, something stirs in my arms and my breasts tingle. Focus, Bella, focus!

"You're Edward Cullen?"

He nods briefly and turns me back around towards the table. As he leans in to pull my portfolio off the table, he brushes past me and I get the sneaking suspicion he sniffs me. My blood runs cold; did I forget to put deodorant on again this morning? I did it last week, so embarrassing, at least I realized before anyone else – I hope. Some days I just forget my head. He holds onto the portfolio for a moment before handing it to me.

"I've got class in a few minutes. If you hadn't been so late we could have discussed the possibility of me mentoring you longer."

This isn't a done deal? I panic, he's vetting me? Quick Bella, you have to see him again, do something and impress him! And it is just at this moment my mind leaves me again and I am forced into intellectual limbo.

"So you will at least consider me?" I manage to squeak out.

"Maybe, come again some time next week and we will continue the discussion."

He abruptly hands me my portfolio and holds the door open, ushering me out as if he can't bear to be around me anymore.

Why am I so repulsive? I hang my head in shame a little bit and hurry past, as far away from him as possible.

Just as my foot is over the threshold, and I'm standing in the hallway, I hear the door click quickly behind me. Well, that didn't go very well. And I really like his stuff too; he could be a great mentor. I mentally kick myself as I walk away from his office. I hope that's not the last time I see him.

…

I tell Alice all the details of my first meeting with Edward on the morning of our next mentor meeting a week later.

"See, I told you so!" she says, rubbing her hands with glee. "A tall, dark stranger!"

"Alice," I point out, "if he's going to be my mentor, I cannot fall for him. That would be really uncool. The last thing I need now is more unrequited love!"

I think of my other best friend, Jacob, who has stopped talking to me since I politely declined his advances. He is a total hottie, I admit, but the spark just isn't there. I had no idea until he tried to get me drunk last summer and made his move. He wouldn't take his hands off me until I slapped him, and we haven't spoken since. It's a real shame, but I'm still hurting about the end of our relationship and the way he treated me.

"So when do you see him again?"

"This morning, and I'm going to be early this time!"

I woke up at 6 am, which was unheard of for me, but I practically bounced out of bed, knowing I would be seeing him again. I'm allowed to have a little crush on him, aren't I? I'm only going to be seeing him once a week for a few hours, hopefully! I spent a little more time on my appearance today. I made Alice give me a mani-pedi last night. She was more than happy to do it for me and gave me hints about what colors look better with my skin tone and hair color, and for once, I'll admit, I listened. I even wore my push up bra and matching panties. Good grief, Bella, do you really think he's going to see them? I shake my head as I go through a few dresses, modeling them in front of the mirror,

I hear a gasp and turn around to see the pixie-girl beaming at me.

"Bella's got a crush!" she sings at me and then runs off as I grab the nearest shoe off my bed and aim it for her head, but it harmlessly bounces off the wall – I've got a terrible aim. Well that's it, I decide, I'm just going to wear what I've got on now. It will have to do. Either that or I will have to admit that my mentor Edward has turned my head already, what a loser I am. No way a beautiful, talented guy could like me like that. I inwardly recoil at myself and feel flushed and silly. Idiot.

…

I am waiting at room 303 as Edward runs up the stairs and bursts into the hall. He slows down when he sees me and walks slowly past the first two rooms. I don't mind as it gives me a chance to get a proper look at him; he's not wearing a suit today. Instead he has on loafers, brown chinos and a checkered shirt - oh my, he looks so effortlessly stunning. How does he do it?

He takes the last few steps towards me and for the first time he smiles. "Hi Bella, good to see you again."

I hate to admit it, but my heart leaps at hearing my name leave those full red lips. I can feel the blood vessels burst in my cheeks as I predictably blush and feel a pleasant warmth lower down.

He takes a jangle of keys out of his pocket and, without asking me to move, leans in towards me. He puts the key in the lock, but the entire time, he doesn't break eye contact with me once. I look up into his beautiful piercing eyes and am overwhelmed by that familiar musky scent. I have to physically stop myself from leaning in towards him to sniff his hair. Oh dear, I think I may have a problem. I bet there are Edward-maniacs all over the city. In a flash, it suddenly occurs to me, he probably mentors other girls. The very idea of it makes me feel a little sick with jealousy, and as he opens the door and motions me in, I push it from my mind.

"Good week?"

He sits down and starts unbuttoning his checkered shirt.

_What the hell…?_

"Yes, I saw a -" I manage to utter as I stare, mesmerized by his nimble fingers.

The room is silent as I watch him finish unbuttoning his shirt and take it off. To my complete dismay, he reveals a white wife beater top on underneath. I say complete dismay, but still it reveals that he is buff! I'd not recognized his slight tan before, and I feel my mouth slacken and open slightly as I stare at his bronzed biceps. Good grief. Why is life so unfair?

He looks at me a little confused as I remember I have stopped speaking mid sentence and he is waiting for me to carry on.

Snap out of it, Bella!

"Yes, I saw an exhibition of Erwin Olaf's new work at the MoMA. I really prefer it to his earlier stuff; it is so much more cinematic. You can instantly see there is a story coming alive from just one frame."

Phew, that was more than a sentence; hopefully he won't think I've got the IQ of a mannequin this time.

"Oh, I want to see that, I haven't had time yet. Did you go with anyone?"

That's a strange question. Not that I don't mind him asking me personal questions but this feels more like a friendly chitchat than the grilling I was expecting. Should I lie and say I went with a male friend? No, Bella, he doesn't really care. Grow up!

"Just my roommate."

"Oh," he sounds disappointed. Should I have said someone from class?

"Alice," I add without a reason.

"Oh." He sounds happier that time. Happier I was with a girl? Or am I reading too much into the tone of his voice?

"Anyway," I continue, trying to get the meeting and my mind back on track, "have you thought about whether you want to mentor me?"

"What do you mean?" He bats my question away with his hand. "Of course I do."

Why is he so cheery? I wonder if maybe he got laid last night. The tiniest thought of someone else's hands on him makes me feel a little bit woozy, and I snap myself out from my thoughts and back to the words coming from his juicy, kissable lips.

"Erwin Olaf is great, but I would prefer the combination of his earlier and more recent work. There is a feeling of guilt and sadness in his current work, but I'd like there to be more of a darker undertone that he had before."

Oh, so he likes the darker side of life, does he? I notice that we have both leaned in towards each other over his desk, our hands placed opposite each other. I look down and see that mine are slightly gripping the table. As I subconsciously lick my lips I feel my throat go very dry. My hands start to tremble as he describes his favorite photographs from a recent Ellen von Unwerth exhibition and I have to release my hands from the painful grip on the wood and place them firmly in my lap.

"So I would like to discuss maybe taking your work in a slightly new direction, if you're interested?"

He runs his right hand through his hair as he looks distractedly out the window towards the library opposite.

"I'd love to."

He turns towards me and grins. How to describe his grin? It is no ordinary dazzler, sure his teeth are dead straight and brilliant white, but there is something about this grin, an almost smirk that says ,'I want to do _very bad_ things to you'. He licks his teeth as he continues to grin, and my nipples feel so hard under my dress I think they are going to explode.

"Won-der-ful."

He says it slowly, pronouncing each syllable as he continues to stare into my eyes and I can feel my panties get instantly wet as filthy thoughts sweep over me. I have a sudden urge to jump over the table and land in his lap, and see what that tongue tastes like, but I manage to keep myself composed. How I do, I don't know…

"Coffee then?"

He closes his mouth and smiles nervously.

"You don't just want to meet here again next week?"

Shut up, Bella! I curse myself. Are you trying to talk yourself out of coffee with the most beautiful man in the world?

"Well we can if you want, but I thought it might be better to get some fresh air, go and see the buildings your project is on," he replies.

"Yes, that's a great idea. Coffee then."

"Better yet maybe we should meet outside the MOMA and tackle it head on?"

_I'd love to be tackled by you_, I want to say. Instead, I get up and say, "Okay. Shall I organize it with your office?"

"No, better not bother them." He hesitates. "Here's my card."

He takes a business card from his wallet and hands it to me. It looks expensive, a subtly classic, off white, crisp card with 'Edward Cullen – Photographer/Academic' and his mobile number, email and office line underneath.

"Email or a text is fine."

As I take the business card from him, our hands touch briefly and I feel the strangest flutter in my stomach. Maybe a flutter is an understatement, it is more like my stomach tumbles over like a washing machine and I feel my pussy quicken at the feel of his rough, strong palm. _Get out of here quick!_ I tell myself, before you do something stupid and ruin this for yourself. I pop the card in my dress pocket and muster up my best sexy smile and watch his reaction.

Whoa! There is a flicker behind his eyes as I smile. I can't read it at first, it looks like his pupils dilate or something, but his eyes seem to actually lighten by a shade or two. It is single-handedly the sexiest thing I've ever seen him do. He smiles again, and I practically skip out of the office, his business card feeling like it could quite literally burn a hole there. _I have got to get home and sort myself out_, I think as I close his office door behind me and put my hand against the wall for support. I might combust on the spot if I'm not careful.

Not for the umpteenth time today, I shake my head. _Gee, I've got it bad!_ I leave the campus with a ridiculous smile on my face; Edward wants to see me out of the office. Wee!

…

I get home and I still feel incredibly turned on. My breasts are beginning to ache from my constant daydreaming about Edward and they are begging me to stop, as my nipples have been practically rubbed raw after being erect for so long. I get into the apartment and look to see if Alice is home.

"Alice?" I holler.

No answer. I quickly nip into my bedroom and pretend to myself that I am quite tired and will just have a quick nap. Within seconds I am down to my matching bra and pants, and I eagerly jump into bed and moan in pleasure that I am finally lying down and can think about him. I remember how he smiled when he saw me standing at his office, and he coolly stopped running like a lunatic and slowed his walk down to a sexy swagger.

My hand reach to my breasts and squeezes them, I place the other one between my legs and squeeze my thighs together. _Ahh that feels good._ Not as good as Edward's hands on me would feel, no doubt, but I know that the idea is out of the question. I don't want to get him into trouble, although legally it was okay. I am nearly 21. I wonder how old he is? If he's working on his Ph.D., I guess he is 24-25? I remember the way he smelled, heavenly, so masculine and in a way, powerful. I groan a little and rub my hand against my panties. I can feel the moisture underneath and the friction feels unbelievably good.

I quicken my pace a little bit as I feel my nipples begging to be touched. I tuck my free hand underneath my bra and flick my left nipple, sending shivers of delight around my body. Oh God! Touching myself has never felt this good! I think about the business card lying discarded in my dress pocket on the floor and give my nipple a good tug. I feel my body slowly wake up. I imagine it is his rough hand furiously rubbing my clit on top of my panties, and I climb and I climb, until I feel weightless for a good ten seconds. It feels like I am in freefall before I crash land, and waves of ecstasy pound through my body, and I finally get my release. It lasts forever until finally my entire body shakes with the last remains of my orgasm. _That was fucking fantastic,_ I think as my jelly legs and hands quiver gently with the aftershock of my explosion. It is then that I know I am in serious trouble.

…

I arrange to meet Edward a day later. I know I sounded keen but it couldn't be more than a week because then we would be meeting again anyway. And I don't want to leave it too long and seem ungrateful; and good grief, I'm surprised I lasted more than 24 hours, aren't you? I don't tell Alice about our meeting. I can sense that she is beginning to disapprove of the growing affection I have for Edward. She is worried I will get hurt. She is such a good friend; I'm so lucky to have someone who genuinely looks out and cares for me.

So I have to do my own mani-pedi, though not as well as Alice, I'm sad to say. Although I wear matching underwear again, I try to dress down a little bit. I choose a wide, short skirt and a not too tight t-shirt with little ankle boots. Modern classic, I like to think. We arrive outside the MOMA at the same time; we are both ten minutes early and grin at each other as we silently acknowledge this. He holds his hand out very formally to shake mine, and I eagerly place my small hand inside his large one. He shakes it once firmly and professionally, and I hold on for a moment longer than necessary just as an excuse to be close to him and stare up into those wide eyes.

But the pain is back behind his eyes again, I can tell instantly. I wish I could know what makes him sad so I can kiss him better. Mmmm kiss him…I find myself staring at his lips again as he greets me and slowly releases himself from my hand. I tear my eyes away from his face and we start walking side by side around the city. He points out a few details I have never noticed before. It seems he has a keen interest in both the city and architecture, and is just a wealth of knowledge. I want to openly gaze up at his face, but I manage to keep my eyes facing the buildings, letting him occasionally lower his mouth to my ear when we enter noisy streets.

"This is one of my favorite places," he murmurs into my ear, his sweet breath making me feel a bit dizzy. Pull it together, Swan! I shout inwardly.

We enter a busy plaza and I can feel us start to become separated, so he very gently places his hand on the small of my back and guides us over to a bench. I mentally beg that his hand will start to slip further down, but he is a complete gentleman. Unfortunately.

"Let's sit down for a moment," he practically whispers again. I feel the blood rising all over myself and moisture seeps out of me into my panties. I feel myself with every step I take.

We sit down, and finally I have a real excuse to look at him again up close. His hair really does look incredibly soft. At the front of his face, it falls over his forehead in soft curls, and he does his best to smooth it out of the way again. And I don't mind staring at him because he is examining my face too, in the same meticulous way. I suddenly feel self-conscious and tell myself no one as stunning as him would ever look at me in the same way. The truth cuts right through me. I am normal. I am plain. I am not in the same solar system, let alone the same league as him. I look at the dull sparkle in his eyes and feel my mouth fall into a sad frown.

"What's the matter?" he asks, his hand tilting my head up as I lower it, ashamed.

_Don't tell him the real reason! _I bark at myself. Make something up! Make something up! "You're beautiful," I reply.

_Shit! Lie, I said! Lie!_ He softly takes his hand from my chin and sighs. We sit next to each other, not touching, and people watch as the crowds mill across the square, some in love, some arguing, and some all alone. We sit like this for a good five minutes, which when you've said something really humiliating and the other person hasn't replied, feels like a lifetime. Finally, he turns towards me and opens his mouth to say something.

Oh God, this is when he tells me he's a mentor and I'm a student and anyway he doesn't want me, and it's never going to happen, and to grow up. I don't think I can bear to listen to it, I suddenly get up and practically run away from him. I sense that he gets up to chase me. I hear him call my name over the crowd, but I am hidden easily and within moments I know he won't be able to catch up with me. Hot tears burn my eyes and I need to get to a bathroom quick because I am about to throw up or implode, and if I start crying here, I may never stop.

…

In the end I manage to get home before the floodgates open. Alice is sitting on the couch, watching a makeover show, shouting obscenities at the TV as I run past her and into my bedroom. I sink to the floor and weep myself dry.

"Bella?" She timidly knocks on the door and opens it. "What's the matter, chick?"

I try to explain to her through the tears, but it comes out garbled. Remembering what has happened makes me cry even more.

"Edward?" she asks gently, stroking my hair as I hug her tightly.

"I'm such an idiot!" I manage as I start to calm down.

"We went to look at buildings today, and I told him he was beautiful, and just before he was about to tell me off like a child, I ran away like a coward!" I choke out between little sobs.

"Oh, Bella!"

Alice laughs and hugs me tighter.

"You're not a coward, or a child. You have no idea what he was going to say!"

I shake my head, refusing to entertain even a glimmer of hope that there might be some truth to her words.

"Please don't be nice to me." I wipe my face with my sleeve. "I don't know how I'm ever going to face him again."

"Don't worry, he's a professional, you're both adults, you'll probably be laughing about it next week. Why didn't you tell me you were going to see him?" She looks genuinely hurt.

"I thought you'd tell me not to get my hopes up. Now I wish you had."

I curse my daydreaming about Edward. I have created a whole fantasy inside my little head and he has no idea. There he was taking a student out for a lecture on his own time, and she blows it by practically coming on to him.

"I'm so embarrassed. I don't think if I see him again I'll be able to stop blushing. Or look him in the eye. Oh God! How humiliating!"

I think I am more annoyed that now I won't be able to stare into those beautiful eyes without him becoming uncomfortable and thinking I'm stalking him. Great. I'm an actual idiot. After about half an hour of soothing noises and hugs from Alice, I feel better, and we go into the kitchen so I can cook dinner for us as a thank you to her. I make her favorite dish and sit with her as she watches a new reality show - something I would never normally do, but I know she likes to have company while she watches that nonsense.

…

A few days pass and I haven't heard from Edward. I tell myself the worst thing I could do is to contact him now and decide that his silence means he has forgotten the whole thing. On the morning of our third office meeting, I start to feel sick at the thought of seeing him. I've never been very good around men. I never seem to know what to say and the first time I actually find myself having real feelings (okay, mercilessly lusting after), I blow it by acting like a lovesick girl – which fills me with further mortification.

I manage to pull it together in the last few moments before I am to see him. After downing a quick coffee in the student café I make it exactly on time to room 303 and knock briskly on the door.

"Come in," a voice from within bellows.

Taking a deep breath I walk in and am surprised to see another man sitting behind Edward's desk. I swallow down the small bile that has flooded into my mouth. _He can't ever bear to be in the room with me!_ I furiously blink back tears. _Compose yourself, woman!_

I sit down, clutching some new photos I have developed the previous night, and look expectantly at the man behind the desk. He immediately stands up and warmly shakes my slightly shaking hand with both of his.

"I'm Jasper." He smiles. "I'm – err – a friend of Edward's. He won't be here today, I'm afraid, so he has asked me to fill in."

"I'm a photographer too," he adds, trying to convince me Edward hasn't just sent anybody to put me off.

I nod dumbly. He's lying, of course. Not only will Edward not be here today, I probably won't see him again and I will be shuttled around different mentors until the end of the term. I blew it big.

"I've taken some new photos." I hand them over and he looks through them. "I listened to Edward's advice and hope these are an improvement on the earlier work I showed him."

I am struggling so hard to keep my voice tone even. If any mental image or thought of Edward tries to infiltrate my mind I banish it immediately, knowing if I don't there is no way I am getting through this meeting.

"Okay, okay," says Jasper as he starts examining each photo in more detail.

"Edward said you had a real eye for cityscapes. I can see he was right about you, you're very talented."

I can't help but allow myself a slight beam of a smile at hearing this praise. Edward thinks I'm talented?

Be gone thought! Be gone before I say something silly again.

Jasper looks at my photos for a final time before handing them back to me.

"Edward was sorry he couldn't be here -"

Just hearing his name makes my heart pound. I dread what else Jasper is going to say.

"But I think you should know that he might not be able to mentor you anymore."

I can't move, I can't nod or even roll my eyes at the inevitability of his words.

"He's got a lot going on at the moment so he is having to, err -"

Jasper is looking around the room as if what he needs to tell me pains him. I find the strength to let my face fall and stare at my shoes while I whisper insults at myself angrily.

Suddenly the door flings open and Edward is standing right in front of me. He looks majestic, his face flushed, his forehead beaded with sweat as if he ran here. I don't know what comes over me, but I stand up and then force myself not to run towards him. His eyes are once again gleaming with brilliance, and he slowly raises his hand out towards me.

"Come to me," he says, and I rush towards his open hand.

Jasper jumps up at the same time.

"Edward, no! What are you doing? Think of your career!"

Jasper tries to jump in between us but mine and Edward's body lock together as he pulls me in towards his chest.

"I can't stay away from her, Jasper."

My nipples jerk up at this comment and warmth floods into my panties. Please, please tell me he might possibly feel the same way about me? My heart sings and I want to weep with ecstatic joy. But instead, I feel Edward start to pull me out of the office and down the stairs towards the exit.

Neither of us say anything, but I am grinning ear to ear like I've got the giggles. We are practically running, his hand curled around mine as he searches the campus furiously for something. Soon he spots something and drags me towards it. We slide behind a building that faces a thin footpath. The space between the path and the wall is empty.

He pushes me against the wall.

"I can't stay away from you," he says just before his mouth flies towards my neck and starts kissing it passionately. I moan in abandon as my whole body seems to light on fire. I can feel him smile as he continues to kiss along my jaw line before his mouth finally reaches mine. Our lips meet, and I feel his warm rough lips part and his hot tongue wrap around mine. I moan in his mouth and thrust myself towards him. I feel his hard on against my clit under my skirt, and I thrust against him again.

He continues kissing me furiously as he grabs my wrists, and holds them up tightly above my head. He maneuvers my wrists so they are both gripped by one very strong hand, and I feel his other hand slide down my face and body until it comes to my breasts. My breathing is already heavy and I nearly cry out, begging him to grab my breasts. I thrust them into his chest and he quickly pulls my top up as his mouth kisses my cleavage. I haven't had time to process my thoughts, except to think I want to pinch myself because I can't believe this is really happening! _Get my boobs out! _I want to shout at him as he grabs my bra and squeezes my breasts.

"Okay," he says to me as he momentarily comes up for air before his hand thrusts under my bra and squeezes my nipple very hard.

Did I say that aloud I worry? _Great, now he'll think you've got a dirty mouth. Which is true but you might not want him to know that._ But it's too late as I thank the stars for making me put on my front opening bra this morning, which he sees, and like magic pops open with two fingers. My breasts shoot into his face, and he moans as he starts sucking my nipples in turn before nibbling at them with his teeth. It's the most incredible feeling I have ever felt before. My pussy is practically panting, and I feel his hand let my wrists go while he uses both his hands to grab my breasts roughly as his mouth finds mine again.

I thrust into his hips and feel his cock burning towards my pussy, and I unconsciously try to dry hump him to get the friction I need to cum. _Under the skirt,_ I silently yell and as if he hears me, his hands reach under my skirt and slide up my thighs towards my panties. I moan in relief as I gyrate my body underneath his skillful hands. Did I talk dirty to him again? Oh well, he seems to like it. Soon he is kissing me softly along my body as his head goes down and under my skirt.

I feel his hot breath on my clit and I cry out again. I feel his hand push my pants to one side and the first of a series of hot, wet licks along my lip edges. I put my hands on his shoulders to steady myself as I feel a lick against my clit.

"Oh, good God," I cry out.

This is amazing. This can never end. His head comes back up to mine, as he kisses me hard and I feel more wetness flood out of me. He can feel it too and he moans into my mouth. Again I feel him push my panties aside and a first then a second rough finger slowly slide into me. I gasp in pleasure as he slides them in and out of me, slowly at first and then picking up his pace until I stop thinking and all I can focus on is those fingers inside me, taking me to the edge of the abyss.

"Fuck Bella, if I'd known it was going to be like this -"

His voice is raspy with lust. I want to do something with my hands, touch him, feel him but I need to concentrate on what he – is – doing –my – God – quicker – Edward – faster. I take his face in my hands and look into his eyes for a moment.

"Fuck. Me. Edward."

It's all the encouragement he needs as together we unbuckle his belt and unbutton his fly. He's not wearing any underwear, and the most beautiful dick I have ever seen springs out. I practically whimper as I try to grab it. He chuckles and bats my hands away and carefully guides his penis, so it teasingly rubs up and down my pussy. Then he grabs my ass with his hands, and I help to slide down onto his cock. We sigh loudly in mutual satisfaction as he thrusts into me and my body hits the wall of the building. I am so close, I can feel it, I can feel all of him inside me. He is so big, and with every thrust, he stares deep into my eyes and I forget to breathe.

"I don't think I'm going to last long, Bella."

My name rolls off his lips and I feel myself start to climb in anticipation. Every cell in my body feels awake and aroused. My mouth drops open and I continue climbing, and Edward feels it too, as he starts to thrust deeper and deeper into me. I feel as if I'm on a rollercoaster climbing to the top, then suddenly everything drops away and together we are flying down to the ground at high speed. My pussy contracts and the sweetest, hardest orgasm shakes my body. I feel Edward call out as he climaxes and he thrusts harder than before into me as I grip his cock tightly with my pussy. I feel him hold tightly onto me as he cums, burying his head into my shoulder as he grunts in sheer pleasure.

We stay like that for a moment.

"You are the best fuck ever."

He grins at me again and gently lifts me off from him, and I do must best to compose myself and not fall to the floor.

"That was amazing," I say breathily as I steady my jelly legs against the wall. I can't imagine sex ever being as good as that again. It makes me a little sad that it has ended. Edward sorts himself up and buckles his belt up again. I feel drunk, I'm so overcome by giddiness. Edward holds onto my elbow to stop me from falling over. He looks down at me quite smugly as we turn the corner and emerge from behind the building.

Only to find Professor Cullen with folded arms standing next to Jasper, who is looking very guilty.

"What did I tell you?" she asks him as he walks nearer. He looks at me and protectively puts an arm around my shoulder, and we walk towards his destiny and downfall.

…

**Please let me know what you think!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Stephenie Meyer owns everything 'Twilight'.**

…

"Unbelievable, unforgivable! Edward, reprehensible! Did you not listen to a word I said?" Esme continued. "What just happened?"

Edward lowers his eyes from her black gaze and tries to fold me into his body.

I am mortified; I look down at the ground and I think I see a fissure developing. _Earth please swallow me up!_ I shout to the tarmac but no, it's just my imagination running away with itself.

"Keep your voice down," he hisses at her, looking to see how much of a crowd we have drawn.

Esme guides us over to a bike shelter and continues to talk but I'm too ashamed to listen to her, I catch odd words like "disappointing" and "betrayal" and I have never felt such shame in my life. She doesn't look at me once.

"This could ruin your career, Edward" Jasper adds running his hands through his hair. He turns to Esme, "I couldn't stop him, Esme."

She places a reassuring hand on his shoulder, Edward's eyes narrow.

"I would never tell anyone," I implore but an uncomfortable silence eclipses the group. We stand like that for a while. I'm clutching Edward's hand tightly, Esme stands between us and forces us apart.

"Go home," she looks above my head as she talks to me. Jasper drags Edward away and Esme follows them. Neither of us know what to say, we look at each other longingly until he pulls his arm free from Jasper and walks away.

…

It was Spring Break a few days later and I spend the week at home in Forks licking my wounds. When school starts again I am equally eager and terrified about being on the same campus as Edward (and Esme). Our first lecture of the day is on criticism and I decide to throw myself into study, spending the hour before the lecture in the library.

Five minutes before the lecture is about to start I walk over to the lecture block then, when I see her run up to Angela who is the one true friend I have made in my photography year group; she is funny, kind, and smart. I really looked up to her; she always seemed to have it so together but never made me feel inadequate. She sits outside with Lauren.

"Hi Bella, ready for today's lecture?" She asks breezily.

"I think so, I went through the background reading last night and again this morning," I need to make a good impression on the lecturer.

"What's the name of the lecture?" asks Lauren.

"Form and function in early criticism," Angela replies off the top of her head.

"Two hours of multi-syllable words and no use of a dictionary. Great." Lauren sniffed.

"It does sound a bit dull," I agree as we walk into the classroom. We are the first ones there and not being too keen on talking up in class discussions I hesitate over where is best to sit. Maybe near the front and look too keen and get ignored or near the back and hide, hoping I won't be singled out.

"Come on," says Angela, pulling me into a middle row.

As the class fills up I ask Angela who is taking the lecture, but just as she answers me Edward walks in carrying slides, books and some notes.

_Fuuuccckkk! _

My heart skips a beat and my blood drains towards south my ankles.

"Crikey Bella you alright? You look as if you're going to vomit."

I nod dumbfounded, not capable of tearing my eyes away from him as he walks up to the front of the class. I am sure he has grown a little bit more beautiful in the four days that have passed since the 'incident'.

_Look at me!_ I mentally shouted. He must know I'm in this class. _Look at me!_

As if he hears me his eyes immediately snap to mine. I feel my mouth drop into a small 'o' as the blood races back up my legs and concentrates around my pussy. I feel the hairs on my arm stand up on end and my temperature instant rises by ten degrees.

But I can't read his eyes or his face, he just stares at me for what seems like a lifetime, but if it is with regret or longing I don't know. As the final student comes into the room and slams the door shut, he breaks the gaze with me and introduces himself to the class.

"Today we are going to discuss early criticism in the field of photography," he announces and starts his opening argument.

_Two hours! _I thought to myself, two hours of just staring at him, heaven! He seems so at ease, so confident as if our little tryst had never happened. He avoids looking at me I know and I bow my head in shame. He probably regrets it terribly. Goodness knows what he had to do to stay in Esme's good books.

He must really despise me. I feel color flood my cheeks until I realize Edward has stopped talking and Angela is poking me sharply in the ribs. I peek a look up at him and see that he is staring down at me. As soon as we make eye contact he comes out of his reverie and carries on talking. He asks Mike to switch off the lights and begins the slideshow.

Relieved I can finally look up, I watch the slides of various early photography and examples of pioneers' works. After a few minutes in, the door to the classroom clicks open and Esme walks in carrying a notebook.

Edward stops the slideshow and patiently waits for her to sit. Did he know she was going to be here? Again I can't tell if he seems surprised or not.

"Sorry. Ignore me," she smiles to the rest of the class, not meeting either mine nor Edward's gaze, "I'm just here to audit."

…_And keep an eye on us,_ I thought. Damn, now I'm going to have to make doubly sure I don't make dreamy eyes at Edward. I don't want her to think we're still seeing each other and get him into more trouble. Although we never were actually seeing each other, I've _felt_ more of him than I've actually seen. I sigh audibly and Angela kicks me as Edward clears his throat and carries on the slideshow. Oh dear, shut up, Bella!

After the slideshow is finished Mike snaps the lights back on and the critical debate begins. I honestly try to concentrate but when he says, "In photography standards of criteria inform our development of disciplines and practice," I zone out completely. He lost me at 'disciplines' and I let my mind wander and I start thinking about what I'd like to practice with him.

"Do you have something to add Miss Swan?" his memorable voice cuts through my daydreams. Angela is looking at me shocked as if I had just uttered a very rude word. Esme peers at me over the top of her glasses from the corner of the room.

I panic and try to remember what they were discussing but I can't, I can only think about those strong arms, the way they lifted me up so easily and - _Jesus, Bella, not now!_

"Weren't you listening?" he snaps.

Shit, he looks and sounds angry. I guess I'm not making him look too good. I try to wake my brain up and think of something intelligent to say. "What about the obligations of the practitioner?" I stumble just as Edward is about to move on.

"What 'obligations'?" he asks, almost intrigued.

I don't know! I'm making this up on the spot! "The, erm, obligations of the photographer towards the critical aspect of their work. Criticism tends to look back at work when hindsight is 20/20. What about before the work is finished when the artist or photographer is actually creating a piece, helping establish what the medium's function is?"

I take a deep breath, that kinda made sense right?

"It's an interesting idea but you're not really getting to grips with what I'm saying. I believe the medium has no responsibility to the artist just as the artist has no responsibility to the critic. Anyway-" he trails off and I see him open a book and scribble in it before asking a student another question.

I breathe a massive sigh of relief. I can't believe I just got away with that especially as what I was saying didn't make sense to even me. Phew! I smile triumphantly to myself.

"No need to look so smug with yourself, Miss Swan," Edward shoots at me, staring again.

Damn, Edward, give me a break! Please tell me the two hours are up now.

"That's all we have for today, thank you class," he announces and I visibly relax.

Everyone files out and I make sure I don't make eye contact with either Esme or Edward. I'm just about to leave the room when I heard his voice. "One moment, Miss Swan"

Both Esme's eyes and mine shoot up to his and she watches me watch him as I slink over to his table.

"Edward…" she cautions.

"Yes, Mr. Cullen?" I ask.

"Are you having trouble with this module?" his voice is cold and distant.

"No, I- I-" I falter, "I am just having trouble concentrating today."

"Are you sure you don't need help with postmodernist criticism?" He starts to gets his notes together as Esme folds her arms over her chest and leans in towards us.

What is he saying? He can't be alone with me, so how can he help me? Is he going to fail me for this class? I shrug, not knowing how to answer him.

"Well, maybe this will help." His voice lowers into a more gentle tone and he takes a book from his pile. He is careful to avoid any physical contact and touch me as he passes the book over. Esme releases her arms and packs her notes away.

"Thanks," I whisper, close to tears. I hug the book to my chest and look up at him, lost.

"I'm sorry," he mouths as he checks Esme is busy completing her audit.

I quickly read the book title 'Postmodernist Theory in Contemporary Art' and as my heart sinks, I lower my head from Esme's stern gaze and walk slowly from the room.

As I leave the room I hear Esme and Edward deep in hushed conversation. As I turn the corner and leave the hall I tentatively open the book and inside the front cover Edward has scrawled three words; "I miss you. x"

I stumbled home confused.

…

Two weeks later my class is in the auditorium waiting to watch Robert Frank's feature film 'Candy Mountain' when Edward is escorted into the room by Esme. "Edward is here to announce a good opportunity for all of you so please listen."

I sit up straight and snap to attention. I search for Edward's face amongst the crowd and see him staring back at me. He holds up his hand to curtail the noise of everyone chattering.

"I'm organizing a weekend trip to a small gallery downstate. It's a great co-op further down the coast and they will be workshops as well as a chance to talk to several artists. Anyone who wants to go please take a flyer and let me know. We'll be getting a coach there and staying on the gallery's homestead."

Edward starts to hand out flyers to the girls milling around him staring into his big emerald eyes.

"I'll take those, thanks Edward," Esme walks towards him and relives him of the flyers as he ambles closer to my side of the room.

Prematurely dismissed Edward nods at Esme then giving me one last quick glance, leaves.

I wait for the chatter to die down and discretely take a flyer. When I get home I type in the gallery's website and have a look. It looks like the gallery specializes in contemporary American as well as mid nineteenth century European photographers; an interesting mix. There are lots of workshops and adult education classes; in fact it looks just the place I'd love to work at. I carry on clicking through the archives at the past exhibitions when my hand stops and I see Edward and my hearts stops.

It obviously was taken at an exhibition opening night, nearly everyone has a glass of wine in their hands. Edward is in deep conversation with a blonde who has her back to the camera, his head is bent as he listens intently to what she is saying as she points a hand at a feature of a piece of work. His eyes are gazing down into her, a small frown on his forehead as he concentrates on what she is saying. He is dressed casually in chinos and a v-neck jumper, one hand in his pocket the other on his chin. I feel aroused just looking at him and try to mentally block the woman out of the frame and imagine it is me, telling him something insightful and profound. Stupid blonde, I mutter to myself.

…

We arrive at the gallery just after noon and are shown to our accommodation quarters on the property to get settled before being led back to the gallery. It is a beautiful place, tastefully renovated from an art deco cinema to a two-storey gallery with a shop and bar. We all pile in the foyer and at the front Edward is greeted straightaway by a knock out blonde.

"Edward!" She squeals as he lifts her up in a hug and swings her around.

I think I recognize the blonde from the website, I also think I am going to be sick. I start walking backwards to the front of the gallery then turn and run past Angela and her friend Ben.

"Bella?" Angela asks, her voice full of concern.

"Travel sick," I manage to blurt out before I get to the safety of the door and push it violently open so I can take the salty coastal air deep into my lungs.

So this is why we're really here, so he can see her, and there I was, naive young Bella, thinking I might finally get to spend some alone time with him after all these weeks. And really he came here to see that beautiful woman. Idiot. I feel tears start to prick my eyes and I open my eyes wide and face the coming breeze hoping to dry them out before I start bawling and humiliate myself further.

…

Early the next morning I head down to the gallery as soon as it opens, hoping to get a sneak preview of the current work on display, before I have to fight with all the other students to look around. I walk to the bar and order an early morning smoothie.

"Banana and strawberries, please," I ask the Barista serving, looking through my purse for change.

"Sure thing," she says and gets to work. I look up and notice it is the same blonde that Edward was so happy to see yesterday and I suddenly feel my appetite dissipate.

"You're in Edward's class?" she asks as she hands me the glass and takes my money. I nod sucking down on the straw not wanting to have a conversation about him.

"He comes down a several times a year to stay with me," she pauses letting the last sentence hang in the air heavy with meaning. "But I haven't seen him for a while."

Please spare me the details, I pray as I nod and stare at my glass.

"He's great isn't he?" she continues, nodding past the foyer and to the smaller gallery where I see a flash of copper hair dart past the half-opened door. Without hesitation I abandon my drink and walk over to the gallery door and peek around the door labeled "Children's Introduction to Photography".

Inside Edward is sat on the floor talking to a handful of kids about art, in his hands is a digital camera and he passes it around encouraging the children to photograph things from their point of view. The camera is wirelessly linked to a projector screen behind Edward and when each child's photo appears he commends the child and discusses the composition with the group who listen with rapt attention.

My heart melts and I slowly reverse back in the foyer not wanting to disturb him and return to my drink, and my melancholy. I take another large slurp trying to finish my smoothie before the blonde returns from the end of the bar.

"He came up with the idea last time he was here. It's a great scheme." She enthuses as she comes back from serving another customer. "It's for the local poor kids really but anyone can come along…and he does it for free. He's heavily involved in fundraising for the gallery I'm very lucky." she adds as if I needed further persuasion that the man wasn't a martyr in the making.

"You worked here long?" I ask really wanting to know, "have you been fucking him for long?"

"Well, we opened about five years ago now," she smiles warmly. I think, maybe she's not too bad then I remember she has just used a plural person pronoun.

"We?" I choke.

"Yes, my boyfriend, and me" she nodded wiping some glass with a dishtowel.

Oh God. She called him her boyfriend. I want to die, now, quickly please. She stops wiping and looks puzzled at my pained face.

"Sorry, I didn't realize Edward was serious with anyone," I say lamely gulping the last dregs of my never-ending now bittersweet drink. I'll never be able to eat bananas and strawberries again!

"Edward? Edward's like a brother to me," she snorts. "Here's my boyfriend now."

I look up and see a beautiful muscular guy walks up to the bar gives us both a nod before sticking his head into the gallery and shouting, "Yo, Edward!"

Edward mumbles something to his class and opening the doors shakes hands with the muscular guy. "Emmett!"

"Leave him alone Emmett he's teaching!" shouts the blonde across to them.

"I've only just said 'hello' Rosalie!"

I avert my eyes quickly as Edward looks our way, he frowns a little and I decide it's probably best I go in case he thinks I snooping on him. Which I wasn't, not intentionally anyway, well maybe a little.

"Thanks for the drink," I say to Rosalie and make my way to the exhibition gallery, glad to be on my own for a moment.

I look at the large portraits of kids in Haiti but I can't cast a critical eye on anything, all I can think about is Edward. This is getting ridiculous, I almost stamp my feet in frustration. I can't seem to forget about him at all, coming on this trip just seems like it was a huge mistake. But I can't help but hope deep down that he will have seen me come in here and excuse himself from his friends and come find me so I sit down in pathetic anticipation.

Twenty minutes pass and no one else has entered the room so I decide to leave with my shredded dignity and return to my room to pack. I'll leave a note for Angela and catch the train back to the city. My heart can't take this anymore. I can't focus, I can't think clearly on anything. Every time I close my eyes, I just see his face, I can still feel him under my fingertips.

I exit the gallery to find the rest of my class in the foyer; I guess they had the same idea about scouting the place out early.

Edward breaks away from Emmett and Rosalie and beckons the group around him. "You've got an hour to look around then we'll be heading in the coach to visit an artist in residence on a local farm," he reveals. The group groans in unison. "She's doing some really interesting work I think you'll be pleasantly surprised."

Another woman? Is this place a babe haven for Edward? I sigh and reassert my decision to go home, as I walk towards him I feel a cold handgrip around my heart and feel the edges of a panic attack start to swarm me but I fight it off. There are still a cluster of girls batting their eyelashes at him trying to corner him as I reach him and catch his gaze.

"Edward? Mr. Cullen?" I try to sound as rational and calm as possible.

"Miss Swan?" he asks, looking worried as if I might betray him to the group. Maybe I should tell them he's only after one thing. They probably wouldn't care anyway, well if that's what they want then I definitely won't tell them. Calm down, Bella.

The girls stop their chatter and I can feel them all turn to stare at me, hating me for interrupting their time with him. I try to continue looking at him as I talk but I realize my voice is in serious danger of cracking if I do.

"I think I'm going to get my things and catch a train back to the city" I say hoping that will be the end of it.

"Can I ask why?" He takes a step towards me but I instinctively take a step backwards, I feel my hands curl into fists and shake slightly.

"Look at me, Miss Swan." I drag my eyes up to meet his, surely he can tell I'm not up to this? Just being in the same building as him is killing me. Does he really want me to rip my heart out for him? Then will he let me go?

"Please stay," he looks at me with real urgency in his voice. "At least go and see the documentary on French photography this evening? It's being set up in the larger gallery."

So that's all he cares about; my education, I nod and whisper. "Yes. Okay". I want to say "I will do anything you ask of me. Please just think of me," but as soon as I have acquiesced the gaggle of girls close in on him again and he is left to field their incessant questions.

As I walk away I think I can feel his eyes bore into the back of me, probably with disdain or anger but I daren't look around. I march straight up to the homestead and returning to my room throw myself onto the bed and cry myself to sleep.

…

"You missed the field trip," Angela says as she bursts in the room and pulls the covers back from my head.

As I wake up from my heavy sleep, visions of Edward flitter back to me. It seems he is always in my thoughts. Angela sees my face and sits down on the side of my bed.

"Bella," she says stroking my hair with her hand. "You've been crying."

I wipe my face with the back of my sleeve and let out a wretched sniffle.

"Are you homesick? You can't still be travelsick surely?" she probes gently.

I shake my head, how desperately I need to talk to someone. I wish Alice were here. Maybe if I let my suffering out in the open it wouldn't seem so bad.

"I think I know what the problem is," she said handing my some tissues.

"You do?" I'm amazed, I thought I'd kept my feelings hidden so well.

"It's that boy isn't it?"

"Huh?" I wouldn't exactly call Edward a boy.

"That Jacob you introduced me too during Fresher's week?" She tilts her head and looks at me with sympathetic eyes until I give in and gently nod back.

"Thought so," she said. "Come on, go have a shower and you can tell me all about it".

I unpack a dress from my suitcase and head towards the shower room. The hot water on my skin is soothing and I gradually begin to feel more like myself. I return to the room to find Angela in a panic.

"Oh no", Angela looked at her watch, "that documentary film is starting in the gallery in five minutes, we'd better hurry. It's going to be standing room only."

"You go on," I told her, "I'll be down in a minute."

"Okay," she grabs her bag and heads for the door, "see you down there."

I want to make sure I looked presentable in case I ran into Edward again, hopefully I won't be able to stare at him in the dark, that's if he goes.

I take my time walking back to the gallery and I even hang about for an extra moment to make sure I'm the last one in. I draw the heavy curtain aside and creep in. It is very dark inside the room as the opening credits to the documentary end and Henri Cartier-Bresson's face appears on the screen. It is crowded too and I squint against the dark, finding a small clearing near the back of the room.

I thought I was the last one in but a few seconds later a man comes and stands behind me. I feel annoyed, I want to just be by myself not have to be aware of anyone else, but then I stop breathing as a familiar voice whispers into my ear; "I'm glad you're here Bella."

I hitch my breath and swallow nervously, too frightened to turn around in case I scare him off. I feel him take a step closer to me so his whole body is pressed against mine and I shiver. I still myself waiting, hoping for him to touch me, I daren't move from excitement.

Finally I feel him draw his finger down the side of my neck. I shiver audibly and I feel his other hand slowly reach up to my face and cover my mouth to quiet me.

"This okay?" he seductively murmurs into my hair and I slowly nod as my eyes widen and I feel my need for him in my panties.

"Be very still," he warns as he holds me for a minute, one hand on my mouth the other traveling down my side, cautiously squeezing my breast before continuing down. I feel his hand caress an ass cheek and slowly pull my dress up so I am exposed to him and I hear he make a noise of excitement as he becomes very evidently aroused.

He holds me close to him, his erection nestling between my ass cheeks, and his hand reaches round to the front of my panties and slowly he strokes the cotton over my clit.

I can't help but murmur in contentment even with his hand firmly clamped over me. He stops touching my clit and when he knows I am quiet he releases my mouth slightly and pushing my lips apart with his finger slides it into my hot, wet mouth.

As he slowly pushes and pulls his finger in and out of my mouth, I hear him utter very quietly "Oh…Good…God" with every movement. "Bella, beautiful Bella".

I clench my ass to remind him I am still exposed and he suppresses a naughty snigger and removing his finger from my mouth tenderly clamps my lips shut again.

He takes the other hand still resting on my clit away and I almost cry with the loss of heat from myself. I'm desperate to turn around and look at him, to touch him, but I keep my eyes front as the documentary continues. A few people cough or shift position as they watch.

"I've been wanting you all day," he kisses the side of my neck letting his lips rest on my skin.

His hand retraces my ass and he slowly draws two fingers along my pussy. I want to move, to rock against his hand but his tight grip leaves me very little room to move. Like before he moves my panties to one side and I feel his two fingers plunge into me.

It feels glorious, he keeps them still for a moment, until he is sure I won't move, then he gently flicks them inside me.

"Christ, Bella. You want this too." He growls next to me as I feel him push a third finger inside.

I open my lips and nip the inside of his hand, he briefly winces in surprise then gives me his thumb to bite down on. I feel all three fingers move inside me in a 'come hither' motion and I let my head fall back so its resting against his strong, hard chest. He starts to move his fingers inside me faster and whispers dirty nothings in my ear.

"Let go, Bella," he urges as I can't help but move my body in time with his fingers. I let go of his thumb and he reaches down into my bra and pinches a nipple really hard. I love it. He pinches the other one and starts hitting the inside wall of my vagina so hard with his fingers I have to bite my lip to stop myself from crying out. I know I'm close to cumming any second.

I move my hands to the front of my panties and rub my clit to help me along. "Are you touching yourself?" he asks me as he places his hand back over my mouth.

I suppress another moan as I pretend it's his hand rubbing me as his fingers go even deeper. "I wish I could watch your face as you cum," he adds. With that my body rises and rises and I don't think I will ever stop climaxing until I am jerked back down to reality and my body convulses around his fingers.

"That's my girl," he tells me as we stand amongst the audience and he holds tightly onto me.

"I'm in 11b, come to me at dawn," he finishes before letting me go and disappearing into the crowd.

…

I put my phone alarm on vibrate and set it for just before 4am and fall asleep clutching it. It is still dark when it goes off in my hand and I am pulled into reality. Carefully getting dressed I tiptoe up to his floor and gently sneak a hand up to knock on his door.

"Bella?" I turn, and standing in front of me is Esme. Edward opens the door to his room and sees us before him.

"Bella," he whispers as if dazed, his hands reaching out towards me.

"No, Edward," I warn, my eyes plead with him to be silent.

"I knew this was mistake," she looks between us as Edward tries to embrace me in his arms and I push him away.

"I thought I could trust you." She tells us both and I feel disgraced, knowing I have been dishonorable towards her.

"She's nearly 21, this is ridiculous," says Edward raising his voice.

"That's it. I've had it," says Esme with finality in her voice. "You're fired."

"What?" my mouth falls open.

"But he's your son," I reason, surely she wouldn't do this? The scandal of why he was fired could ruin him.

"Exactly," she says her cold eyes cutting me down dead, "if my own family won't listen to me why should anyone else?"

She turns to Edward but looks past him, "Get your stuff and go."

"That's not the only reason though is it, Esme?" he eyes are black with anger as he stares at her.

…

**Please let me know what you think!**


	3. Chapter 3

Stephenie Meyer owns everything 'Twilight'.

…

Disgraced, I sit on the train in horrified silence, trying not to breakdown sobbing. I am heading back to the city, and inside me there is a gnawing sick feeling, as acid burns in my throat. Esme herself marched me back to my room and careful not to wake Angela, I slowly packed my bags. I can never look her in the eye again, I will never see Edward again and I feel nauseous knowing that I have been the cause of his ruin. A small voice whispers to me that at least now we could see each other, there is nothing to stop us, but why would he want to see me? I am the girl responsible for irreversible damage to his teaching, and possibly, academic career and I can hardly be brought home to mother…

I wondered what the _other_ reason could Esme want from stopping Edward from seeing me? Apart from the moral, ethical side of it_. Great. Nice going, Bella, real classy move_. I rack my brain for an answer. Does he have a criminal record? Mental problems? The only other possible explanation I can think of is that he's married, but I refuse to believe it. Leaving the station I walk home, watching the sun come up over the river, but it's not until I am finally home that I can fall into my bed and bawl my eyes out. How can I ever face Esme ever again? I will have to do my best to avoid her at University.

I count my blessings that Alice is away for the weekend and doesn't question why I am home early. That evening, I indulge myself in feeling wretched but can't bring myself to mope in bed. Instead I pull on my softest pajamas and lie on the couch watching old Katherine Hepburn films. She had class, I mock myself, unlike you, you strumpet. I can't stop remembering being caught red handed by Edward's mother and all though I am completely alone, my face burns with shame. I can't even look at myself in the mirror, or any reflected surface, I have reached a new low. But a little voice in the back of my head reminds me where Edward is involved I seem to have no moral compass, no sense of what is appropriate.

I cringe at my behaviour and try to think of a suitable punishment for myself, but draw a blank. Everything is either too glib or disingenuous. I am a vile hypocrite, and quite possibly a home wrecker. My mind reels over what the possible true reason of Edward's inability to date might be? Maybe it's a weakness that only Esme recognizes. It might not necessary be against a state or federal law. God, I hope not. However embarrassed and mortified I might be, I know that level could be lowered when or if I find out why his own mother fired him.

I half-expected Edward to get in touch with me, now he has been fired surely we can be together? Maybe he was only interested in me as a student? Or maybe now I have destroyed his career, he wants nothing to do with me? That would be perfectly understandable. It worries me how much I miss him. We hardly spent any time together and I crave his company, I want to get to know him so much better. At University the following week, I keep a low profile, hoping no gossip has been spread about my early disappearance and Edward's dismissal and that the rumor mill hasn't been pedaling too much.

I see Angela in the cafeteria, but as soon as she catches me walking towards her, she turns on her heel and leaves. _Crap, that's not a good sign_, I think. Alice finally returns home that evening and not wanting to discuss my recent disgraceful fall, I decide not to tell her what happened on the trip but keep it bottled up inside.

"So how did it go?" She winks at me, hopeful, guessing that Edward and I manage to spend time together.

"Fine, I think I've decided Edward's not really into me," I lie, pretending to be busy making dinner for us both.

"What? I thought he really liked you," she asks confused.

I try to laugh breezily, and thank the Gods that I just manage to pull it off. "I think I read all the signs wrong," I confide in her, trying to look immodest. "Yeah, he's too old for me anyway."

She raises an eyebrow at me, and her frown suggests she doesn't believe a word I have said, but as the great friend she is, she merely nods and keeps quiet.

"So you haven't heard anything from the photography department about the weekend?" I hate to ask, in case I raise her suspicions, but I need to know.

"I don't think so, should I have?"

"No, no reason."

"I think it's probably for the best, Bella. His behavior seemed a bit weird even to me."

I consider telling her about Edward's sacking but I can't think of a way to tell Alice which won't make her question me further. I make my excuses, serve up pasta for us both and hole myself up in my bedroom for the evening. I wonder what made Angela run for the hills when she saw me. Maybe Esme told her? I thought I had managed to sneak in and get my suitcase whilst she was still sleeping without her waking. Esme had insisted on standing guard outside my door, in case I tried to run back to Edward. I can still remember the look on her face as she escorted me off the homestead and into a cab. I can still hear the violent slam of the cab door, as she shut it after me. She did everything but spit on the ground. I can only imagine the treatment Edward got. Poor, beautiful Edward, he looked so outraged at her, and yet seemed to know better than to try and hold onto me as she dragged me away.

The next day at University I have my final meeting with my mentor, I dread going into the 303 in case Esme is waiting for me but luckily it's just Jasper. I keep my eyes down the whole time answering in short, sharp replies. His voice is low and sad, and neither of us mentions the elephant in the room. I look up at where Edward's photographs used to hang, they have been taken down, and all remains of them are the slightly darker rectangles on the wall. Jasper compliments me on my work and I thank him for his help emotionlessly. I get up to leave, my hand on the door, but I hover, unable to drag myself out of the room, without at least asking after him. Jasper looks at me with sad eyes, begging me not to mention Edward but I can't help myself.

"How is he?" I whisper, unable to say his name without knowing what the dire physical reaction might happen as a consequence.

"Missing," says Jasper with a level of concern. "Has he not got in contact with you?"

I shake my head and turn to face the door as hot tears blister my eyes. I know now I have to leave or I am going to have a disturbing breakdown right here. As I leave the room, my luck plummets and I run straight into Esme. My chin and lower lip wobble, and I suspect I am doomed to not leave the building without bursting into tears.

"Oh God," I sputter, digging my nails into my hand to quell the onslaught of tears. She looks down at me in surprise, and I push past her and scurry down the hallway.

"Bella," she calls me back, and I reluctantly turn around to face her.

"I'm sorry," Esme reaches out to touch me, but I recoil from her grip. "I thought you knew."

"Knew what? What is it?" I panic, I had always liked Esme and couldn't understand her harsh treatment of me and now she seems to be apologizing.

"It's my fault, I should never have let him mentor you, but I didn't know until later. If only I had known who you were."

"Please tell me what is going on." I beg, the door to 303 opens and Jasper appears in the doorframe, looking between Esme and me.

"It's not for me to say. Have you heard from him?"

"No," I said between gritted teeth, pretending not to notice the look they share above my head. She looks at me helplessly, before indicating to Jasper she needs to speak to him. Without a farewell from either of them, they go into room 303 and close the door.

Frustrated, I compose myself, head held high and walk away.

…

By the time I get home, I have a raging migraine, all I want to do is close my eyes and lie down in my room. Alice meets me in the hallway, on her way out. She thrusts a piece of paper in my hands with a number scribbled down.

"Who's it from?" I croak, praying it's from Edward.

"Jake called, it's his new number. He asked me to tell you he's going to call again later." She plants a goodbye kiss on my cheek. "You okay? Want me to pick anything up? You look like you're coming down with 'flu or something."

"I'm fine, enjoy your night out. You got a date?"

"Yes," she giggles. "Met him last week on holiday, will tell you all about it when I get home." She waves as she leaves, and I gratefully shuffle into my bedroom and collapse in my clothes onto the bed.

...

It's dark when I wake up, my stomach rumbles and I stand up to get something to eat. I sway uncontrollably as my head spins and I know I haven't got rid of my migraine yet. I blindly walk to the kitchen, afraid of opening my eyes in case I barf. I used to suffer from headaches and migraines all the time, but I haven't had one for years. As I remember why I used to get them, the cold hand of fear grips me around my neck and I remind myself there's a good reason why I don't think about my childhood. I consider calling my dad, Charlie, or going home to Forks, but I've only known Charlie and Forks for the last few years and even we don't talk about my life before. Before that I was an unknown entity. I didn't do much schooling and I managed to get onto my course on the strength of my photography and an excellent recommendation from Renee, my tutor at the clinic.

The phone rings and I gasp and run to answer, still too scared to open my eyes in case I vomit. I yell out as I misjudge where the coffee table is and crack my knee as I trip over it. I laugh pathetically at my own bad karma before crawling over to the phone to answer it.

"Hello, hello?" I garble, not sure if someone is still there.

"Bella?" My heart falls as I recognize Jacob's voice.

"Hi, Jake. I wondered when you'd call me again."

"Sorry, but I wasn't sure if the twentieth apology would fall on deaf ears too."

"Now is not really the best time, Jacob."

"Can I see you? Please?"

"I don't know, Jake. You weirded me out last time." Other than Charlie and Alice, Jacob has been there for me since we met. He lives in a village near Forks, our dads are best friends, and I know they would kill for us to get together, but I don't feel attracted to him. Before I met Edward I might have come around, but now I know that feeling of raw desire I couldn't marry Jacob just for companionship.

"C'mon, Bella! I was an idiot, but I think you're making too much of a big deal about it."

"Jake, you tried to stick your tongue down my throat!"

"Can't blame a guy for trying. But I promise, best behavior from now on." I hesitate, maybe I did over react, I had known his feelings for me for quite a time. If the role had been reversed I can't say I would have never tried to grab and kiss him, _if it had been Edward…_

"Okay. As long as I don't have to slap you again, cos I will you know."

"You're not going to let me live it down, are you?"

"Not for a long while." I grin, and it's the first time I've laughed in ages.

"What are you doing, Saturday? Wanna get some brunch and just hang out. Pick you up at 10?"

"Yeah. I would really like that, Jake."

"I've missed you, Belly."

"Me too. See you Saturday."

I place the handset back down and sit on the floor of the lounge. Part of me doesn't know how I feel about seeing Jacob again, but I think I'm ready to mend bridges with him after his sleazy behavior. After Angela stormed off today I'm beginning to suspect I need all the friends I can get.

…

The next morning I am so happy my migraine has cleared I practically jump out of bed. Forgetting about my knee, I crumple under my own weight as I try to skip out of my room. Epic fail. I brush myself down and manage to jump into the shower before Alice is up. She is a morning person, it can be quite irritating at times to be greeted by someone perfectly turned out and ready with a cup of coffee for you, when you look like you've just been dragged through a hedge backwards, but she was nowhere to be found.

I am curious when an hour later she still hadn't surfaced. I know she is home because her house keys are hanging on the hook. I consider taking her a mug of tea but presume she must have had a heavy night and is just sleeping it off. I am reading a monogram on Floria Sigismondi when her bedroom door clicks open and her tiny frame peers around the door.

"Morning," she smiles at me, sheepishly.

"Good morning, Alice. Kettle's just boiled." I beam at her, as she shuffles out, dishelleved, with a bed sheet wrapped around her. She gets two mugs out of the cupboard and throws two teabags in.

"Do you want one?"

"Yes, please."

I raise an eyebrow as she takes a third mug out and not quite meeting my gaze, her smile falls into a sly grin. Sensing some gossip, I put my book down and sit opposite her at the breakfast table.

"Do tell...Wasn't this a first date?"

Alice nods. "I couldn't help myself. Bella, he is so beautiful. Stunning, really. Wait until you see him."

"Where did you meet him?"

"Well, you know I went to Bellevue last weekend, while you were on your art trip?" I nod, pushing the pang of heartache down. "I've really missed not being able to spend as much time horse riding since I've been living in Seattle so I well to the Bridle Trails park to go riding, and he was there babysitting for his cousin and we started chatting." Her face falls into a wide smile as she looks dreamily at her bedroom door.

"So what does he look like? Am I going to meet him?"

"Yeah, let me take him some tea first. I'm sure he'll be out a bit later."

She winks at me, and heads back into her bedroom. I concentrate on finishing my book and think how happy I am for Alice, and maybe a tiny little bit jealous. Without thinking of his name, the image of the once constant man on my mind filters through. I close my book tightly, as I push his face out of my head, and back into the depths of where it has come from, deep in my soul. Not realizing it, I have screwed my eyes shut and when I open them, I hear a man clear his voice and as I look to Alice's room, I gasp.

Standing in front of me was my second mentor, Jasper, his eyes wide in equal surprise.

"Hello, Bella." He swallows hard, and I see him look nervously at Alice, as she takes his hand and twirling around in his arms, gently pulls him into the room.

"Jasper." I blink back tears of shock as I feel my skin prickle red.

"You know each other?" Alice and Jasper sit down on the couch opposite me as Jasper and I slowly nod at the same tempo. "How?" She asks, casually.

"You want to take this one?" I ask Jasper sarcastically, I really can't see me talking about Edward without hyperventilating.

Jasper turns to Alice and takes her hand. "I took over mentoring Bella after Edward was fired."

"Bella's Edward? He was fired" Alice asks, furrowing her brow and pulling her hand free of his. Jasper looks at me with annoyance at my lack of disclosure, I avoid his gaze.

"Did Bella not mention what occurred on the art trip?"

"Bella?" Her big eyes look upset that I hadn't relayed the humiliation and misery of the weekend.

"Sorry, Alice, I couldn't talk about it. I still can't."

"So what happened?"

"Well, Esme, Edward's mother, my boss and the course leader, suspected that they would try to see him each over the weekend. When she found Bella knocking on his door at 4 in the morning, she had no choice but to send her home and fire Edward."

He shifts uncomfortably and turns to me. "In fact I think you should know Bella that knowing Esme, she probably set it up like that. She knew Edward wouldn't be able to keep away from you, regardless of how professional he was trying to be."

"His own mother fired him?" Alice leans back into the couch in disbelief.

"Is he still...missing?" I whisper, terrified of either answer.

"He hasn't been seen or heard of since the trip."

"Aren't you worried?" Jasper shakes his head.

"You don't really know Edward that well, Bella. He has a tendency to go off radar when things get stressful. He always has done."

"Is he mentally unstable? Is that the dreadful secret?" I look directly at Jasper; he looks back at me but reveals nothing.

"What dreadful secret?" Alice leans forward towards us both, her hands on her knees.

"Esme told me that he wasn't fired just because of me but for another darker reason." I look at Jasper hoping that he will put me out on my misery, or at least give me a good hint.

"Is he married?" Alice shouts, looking like she is about to throttle her new love.

"No, not married. I wish he was, that would be...easier…in a way."

"Why can't you tell her, Jasper?" Alice tries to work her charm by stroking his arm. He smiles sadly at her, aware of what she's trying to do.

"Edward never knew who his father was until a few years ago. When he found out about him the truth hurt him, devastated him. It changed him. After he researched into who he was it frightened all of us. There's more but," he falters.

"Don't tell me," I mock. "It's not your place to say."

Jasper nods.

...

I am so glad when Saturday comes, I'm not decided whether I will mention Edward to Jacob or not, but I cannot wait to see a friendly face from home. I feel such happiness when I see him outside my apartment, he wraps me tight into his arms and I hug him tightly back.

"Hey, Belly." He kisses me platonically on the cheek, but then grabs me and hugs me again.

"Jake," I laugh. "Jake! Put me down! JAKE!" He lifts my feet clear off the floor, before begrudgingly settling me down.

We walk around the corner to one of my favorite diners. We are shown seats by the window and Jacob eagerly begins to decide what to eat.

"So you here for the day?" I ask, hoping he hasn't come all the way here to just see me.

"Yeah, I'm picking up my girlfriend from the airport later on." _Girlfriend?_ I can't tell you the relief that floods through me. I tap my feet on the checkerboard floor in joy.

"That's great news, Jake. Who is she?"

"You remember Leah?"

"From the Rez? She was a bit mean to me if I remember correctly." Jacob chuckles, as he nods.

"Yeah, she's badass. I think she was a bit jealous of you. You'll like her though, once she lets her guard down, she's great fun."

I beam back at him. "I'm so happy for you, Jake." I look down at the menu "Pancakes sound good. What you having?"

"You seeing anyone?" Jacob asks cautiously, as he pretends to scan the menu.

"I was." I decide to give Jacob an abridged account of my short-lived affair with Edward. "It didn't work out."

"Was it because he's not me?"

"Hah. No. I guess it just wasn't meant to be." I shrug my shoulders and try to appear light about the doomed romance.

"Is that code for you got dumped?"

"Something like that."

"He's an idiot, then, and doesn't deserve you."

A waitress comes over and takes our order. Jacob flirts with her and it doesn't bother me at all. _I would kill him if I was Leah though_, I think.

"Did you...with him?"

"Jake, that's none of your goddamn business." I shush him and wonder if I will just get used to him pining for me, hopefully eventually he will fall in love with someone else. I really hope him and Leah work out.

Jake orders a disgusting amount of greasy food and a massive drink. I order buttermilk pancakes and a lemonade. "Have you been working out? You look sorta buff." I admire his arms as he poses for me.

"I can't wait around for you forever, Belly. Besides Leah is an amazing cook." I feel ashamed at the small pang of jealousy I feel. I want Jacob and Alice to be happy, but I am selfish enough to want that for me too.

"How's Billy?"

"Not too bad, he's going to have to use the wheelchair permanently, no more walking stick. "

"I'm sorry, Jake."

"It was inevitable I guess. Only time, they keep saying."

"Have you seen my Dad?"

"Sure, he still comes over on game nights, but fishing trips are out of the question now. You coming home for the summer?"

"Well, I was going to stay in Seattle and look for some work experience but more recently I've been thinking about subletting the flat and coming home for a bit. My room mate, Alice, is moving out at the end of the semester anyway."

"Well, it would be nice to see you over the summer. I miss just hanging with you."

"Me too." It's true, life back in Forks seems so much less complicated. "Do you think you'll ever leave the Rez?"

"Not with my Dad in such a bad way, he needs me."

That's one of the biggest reasons why I loved Jacob, he is loyal to the death, and family to him is of utmost important, like it is to me. "I wish I could see my Dad more, but just being at home reminds me of my Mom and that gets hard to deal with after a while."

The waitress brings over my pancakes and Jacob's pile of food. I look in amazement as he tucks in to his sausages with relish.

"Did you tell him about…?" Jacob trails off. Without finishing his sentence, I know exactly what he is referring to. My mouth is suddenly dry and I take a gulp of the homemade lemonade.

"No, Jake. It's not really something you bring up after a few, err, dates." I remind myself Edward and I had never actually gone out on a real date, and it feel makes me feel deathly sad. I look up to see Jacob proudly sucking each finger clean with a pop. I'm annoyed he looks so deliriously happy that he is one of the few confidantes of the most painful and defining event of my existence.

"Please try and look a little less smug, Jake."

"Sorry, I wasn't going for smug, I was trying to look protective."

"Well, you failed miserably."

"Do you think you'll get back together?" I can feel heat prickle my skin.

"Can we change the subject, please?" I ask quietly.

We struggle to change the atmosphere and get the conversation back on track. Eventually Jacob signals to the waitress for the check.

…

As we leave the diner and walk back to Jacob's bike, he takes my hand and holds it tight. After a moment, I release myself and when he frowns at me, I weave my arm around his. He seems disappointed but satisfied he gets to hold me at all.

"Err, Bella? Call me crazy but I've got the distinct feeling we're being followed."

I turn around and look through the crowd as Jacob scans the horizon, but I see nothing. As we walk the couple of blocks to the parking lot, I, too, start to feel like someone else is there, watching us. _Hysteria is contagious, Bella_, I remind myself.

As we stand next to Jacob's beat up bike in the lot, he leans down and attempts to kiss my mouth. I firmly turn my head sideways and he kisses my cheek, there is a raucous noise behind the fence to the lot. We hear a terrible commotion and someone shouting obscenities.

"Sorry I can't help myself. I'm always going to be attracted to you, Belly." I push Jacob away,

"You've got a girlfriend now," I remind him.

"I know," he looks down guiltily. "Will you come visit Billy and me in La Push in the summer? Uni's nearly over for the year."

"Sure, Jacob. I look forward to seeing Leah again."

...

I walk from Jacob's car and back to the apartment. Again, I feel like I am being watched and several times I turn around and glare into the empty street behind me. I don't feel scared, just annoyed.

I am rummaging in my bag for my keys, when I feel a hand snake slowly around my waist, I look up aghast.

"Edward? What are you doing here?" My heart stops beating and stomach dive bombs as he see my Mr. Beautiful standing in front of me. I touch his hand to check that he is here, in the flesh.

He doesn't answer but takes my face in his hands. My heart flutters as I grip onto the lapels of his coat for support. He looks exhausted, world-weary, he hasn't shaved in a week and there are dark circles around his eyes.

"Who is he?" He looks at me tenderly and I am puzzled whom he is referring to at first.

"Jacob? He's nobody."

"I can't seem to stay away from you, Bella Swan." I can't reply because his eyes are so full of want and desire, that I'm scared he won't be able to hear me over the pounding tattoo of my heart. He moves his face closer to mine and I stand on tiptoes to give him better access.

He leans in, but instead of kissing my mouth, he spoils me with short, hot kisses along my throat and jaw line. My eyelashes flutter as my body heats up under his warmth. He steps back to get a better look at me, for a full minute, he just stares at me.

"Edward?"

"The reason why I couldn't see you wasn't only just because I was your mentor." He pulls me back to him, burying his head in my hair, inhaling me.

"People have been hinting at that all week," I reply grouchily, but I can tell he is struggling to tell me the truth, so I am patient with him and let him speak.

"The real reason is too disturbing to imagine. I'm being a selfish bastard just by being here with you." He breathes down my neck and I shiver.

"Nothing could keep me away from you, Edward." I run my finger through his coppery colored hair and lightly scratch his head with my fingertips. I want to touch him everywhere.

"If only that was the truth."

"Why don't we talk about it inside?"

Edward looks longingly towards our apartment. I follow his gaze and see he has picked out the correct one. I wonder how long he has been following me.

"I can't, once I tell you, you're never going to want to speak to or see me again."

"Just tell me, Edward." I whisper soothingly in his ear, tucking a stray strand hair back. "Then we can move forward. I want to get to know you, I want you to get to know me." I lean in to kiss him again, to confirm how I feel for him but he just shakes his head at me before telling a deep breath.

"Bella, I know all about you. I know everything about you. You see, Aro Volturi is my biological father."

As the road spins, blood pumping into my ears, I hear my love calling out the name of the man who destroyed my life. The pavement reaches up to slam me in the face and I loose all consciousness.

…

I think there will be at least one more chapter to go... Hopefully I will be speedier in the update next time.

Have I dived off on a bit of a dark tangent? I'd love to know what you think…


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